


don't need a key (just let your love unlock it)

by unremarkableworlds



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Plot? What Plot?, felicity is annoyed, monty's a little bit of a mess, monty's cat, they're neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkableworlds/pseuds/unremarkableworlds
Summary: Five times Monty locks himself out of his apartment, and one time it's Percy who forgets the keys.
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Comments: 15
Kudos: 32
Collections: TGGTVAV Secret Santa exchange 2020





	don't need a key (just let your love unlock it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CryingaboutPercy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryingaboutPercy/gifts).



**I.**

“No Felicity, I haven’t forgotten  _ how _ to get into my apartment, I’m well aware of how a key works.” My sister had been skeptical about me living on my own, as I seem to remember her outright bursting into laughter when I told her I’d found an apartment, and I’m afraid I’ve just proved her aggravatingly correct by getting myself locked out on just my second week.

I groan as she reminds me that she won’t be done with classes for another two hours. “What am I meant to do until then?” 

She answers quite unsympathetically. I can practically  _ hear  _ the eye roll, the ‘I told you so’ sort that’s plagued me incessantly nearly my entire life. “Should have thought of that before you got yourself locked out. My professor’s here, I’ll see you later.” She hangs up without even a goodbye.

I sigh, sliding down the wall to sit on the hideous hallway carpeting, which as I realize seconds too late, is probably far from cleanliness standards. But it’s too late. I’m already down here, and I don’t plan on getting back up and standing for two hours. 

I resign myself to an afternoon of scrolling mindlessly through my phone rather than the far more riveting afternoon I’d had planned of scrolling mindlessly through my phone but with the TV on in the background. A plan that would have made the afternoon slightly more bearable, though apparently, locking my keys in the apartment wasn’t sufficient reparations for whatever heinous sins I must have committed in a past life, as my phone dies not even an hour into my suffering.

After what I’m convinced is far longer than the two hours I’d been sentenced to — could have been days,  _ weeks _ even that I’ve been stranded outside my apartment, as I’m convinced time stands still in a drab, lonely hallway — I hear the elevator ding, which is a surprise in itself. In the entirety of the two and a half weeks since I moved in, I can’t remember it even once functioning.

More surprising, though, is the fact that my sister hasn’t immediately begun really digging the knife of humiliation and mockery into my self-inflicted wound of being locked out. She usually jumps at the chance to pick at me, but I’m not about to sit back and  _ not _ take advantage of her uncharacteristic negligence. So I fling myself dramatically onto my back — I’ve probably picked up enough filth from this carpet that this display won’t make much of a difference — and groan theatrically once I hear footsteps from the elevator. 

“I’m dying,” I whine. “You’ve left me here all alone to perish, you heartless creature. I hope you can live with the knowledge that you’ve so cruelly condemned me to such a painful, lonely death.”

“I’m...sorry?” replies a voice that decidedly  _ does not _ belong to my sister. “Is there...something I can do to help? Call someone?”

I scramble to my feet, brushing bits of carpet fuzz off my pants to avoid having to look the stranger that I’ve just embarrassed myself in front of in the eye. “Sorry, no, I’m fine. Thought you were my sister.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had a harrowing near-death experience. Sounds quite traumatic.” The warm tone and slight lilting amusement behind the words draw my gaze up, and I suddenly feel flushed for an entirely different reason than the awkwardness of dramatically lamenting all my woes of the day to a stranger. Of course, this couldn’t just be an awkward encounter with an unremarkable neighbor, a situation that we’d both do our best to forget and pretend it never happened. No, because fate is heartless, and the man standing in front of me is quite possibly the most beautiful person I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

He extends a hand to me, and I take it, rather dazedly. I’ve been caught entirely off guard by the amused twinkle in his eyes, by the quite frankly knee-weakening smile tugging at his lips. I don’t manage to do much more than stand there and gape at him, which is mortifying, as I consider myself to normally be very smooth in social interactions. Though, I’m inclined to blame my current ineptitude on losing my mind in an empty hallway for hours and certainly not being knocked entirely off my game by this gorgeous man. 

After a moment, he hesitantly bobs our linked hands up and down in an awkward approximation of a handshake. I shake myself out of my daze and offer up my dazzling smile, complete with the dimples that have launched a thousand ships. Can’t be losing my reputation over one striking boy, after all. “I appreciate your concern. I’m Monty.”

“Percy,” he replies, that soft smile making its reappearance. “Glad to see you’ve recovered from what seemed like it must be certain death.”

“Not quite, darling. Your beauty seems rather dangerous. Might kill me yet.” Percy takes an abrupt step back, flush racing to his cheeks, and I immediately feel ridiculous.  _ Dear Lord, Monty,  _ why _ would you say that? You’ve just met this man. This is a horrendous first impression, oh God, this man is your  _ neighbor _ , not just a potential hookup at a party. You’re never going to be able to leave the apartment again, why did you have to take the conversation there when it could have been perfectly nice— _

My rambling thoughts are cut off by a surprised laugh from Percy, who seems to have recovered from my forwardness and has regained some composure, though he still looks flustered. “My beauty? Unlikely. But I  _ do _ have a rather threatening weapon if it becomes necessary.” He spins to face away from me, revealing a fiddle case on his back. When he turns back, he gives a rather mischievous wink, and suddenly I feel like it may be  _ Percy _ who’s got the upper ground of this conversation. “Don’t want to be on the wrong end of my violin, I can assure you. Could knock a man out, I’m sure.”

And maybe I haven’t gone and made an irreversibly awkward first impression, because Percy’s smile widens, and then suddenly we’re laughing, and I’m not even sure if I  _ want _ Felicity to show up anymore. But the elevator dings again, followed by the immediate mockery I’d expected from my sister in the first place, and Percy turns to the door of his apartment, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

I realize with a jolt that it’s the door directly across from mine, and ridiculously, I’m filled with a nice feeling I don’t dare try to analyze. “Seems like your rescue party’s arrived,” he says as Felicity rounds the corner. He opens his door and flashes me that lovely smile one more time. “It was really nice to meet you, Monty,” he says, and then he’s gone.

Felicity finally lets me into my apartment after a lecture on responsibility with more exasperation than I’m sure I entirely deserve and a promise that if this happens again I’ll be lucky if she comes to help. I’m not sure how much of it I actually process, because suddenly I’m finding it difficult to think about much else aside from the lovely boy across the hall.

**II.**

When I stumble over to my doorway to pick up my late-night fast food order, I don’t notice that my cat is lurking around my feet until it’s too late. It is a fatal miscalculation on my part — the damn creature is an escape artist, and will squeeze herself through the tiniest crack in the door if given even a moment of opportunity. She brushes past my legs before I can slam the door shut and sits in the hallway, already mocking me.

I curse, lunging to make a grab for her, but she’s too fast. She darts out of my reach and makes a dash for the other side of the hallway. “It’s too late for this! You’re being rude!” I hiss at her, but she ignores me completely, going as far as to turn her back on me with what I  _ swear _ is some kind of eye roll. I absolutely blame Felicity for teaching her such behavior.

After a few more halfhearted attempts to coax the damn animal in with my charm alone, I’m about to give up and let her do as she pleases and go back inside. She’ll be scratching and meowing at the door soon enough when she realizes she’s been locked out, dramatic thing that she is. I turn, but I’m stopped dead in my tracks by a yowl and furious scratching. 

“Damn!” I hiss, whirling to find the little monster in front of someone else’s door, practically screaming. “It’s three in the morning! You’re disturbing people!” 

I finally abandon the hope of luring her in from the doorway and step out into the hall. “Listen here, you little shit,” I whisper as loud as I dare. “You’ve gone too far this time. If you don’t get back here right now, I’ll sell you. Or give you to Felicity. She won’t give you nearly as many treats as I do.” The cat regards me for a moment, sizing up my empty threats, then pointedly looks away from me again, the awful thing, and starts back in with her screeching.

I try a different tactic and turn away, making a dramatic show of letting her win, and the yowling dies down for a moment. I give it a second, so she’ll really be caught off guard, then whirl around and make a grab for her. My sneak attack fails, and she hisses menacingly before darting further down the hallway.

I nearly punch the wall in frustration. “Come on, darling,” I try, carefully walking toward her with hands outstretched in surrender. I exhaust my entire playbook — obnoxious kissing noises, pet names, even pulling the dimples out in a last-ditch effort — all things that have worked fantastically in the past, but my cat is, tragically, immune. I’m really starting to get desperate — it feels as though I’ve been at this for hours and every time the cruel little creature opens her mouth to scream again, I get panicked that someone’s going to open their door and yell at me.

I finally just leap forward to grab for the cat, trip over the carpeting and go crashing into the wall, try to keep running after her, and go sprawling facefirst to the floor as she dashes out of my reach. Which is a scene that I’m sure just made much more noise than the cat’s yelling.

To truly make this night one of the best I’ve had, I hear a muffled laugh from somewhere above me and an amused “Monty?”

“Just leave me here to die,” I moan, going to press my face into the carpeting and hoping the earth will reclaim me, but thinking better of it when I spot a questionable stain off to the side. I settle for a long, dramatic sigh, which rather gives off a similar effect.

“Is everything alright?” Percy asks, and I think maybe he’s doing his best to sound concerned, but it mostly just sounds like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. From somewhere down the hall, that bastard cat makes a noise that sounds infuriatingly like a laugh as well. Humiliating, every bit of this.

“Everything’s fantastic,” I grumble. “Don’t suppose you’re a cat whisperer or something.”

“Just a second.” I hear Percy’s door open and shut, and I pick myself up from the floor while he’s gone before I manage to continue making a fool of myself. My devil of a cat is staring me down from the other end of the hallway, and I make a face at her — the same one I give Felicity when she’s being a pain in the ass. It’s about as effective on the cat as it ever is on my sister, which is to say, not at all.

Percy returns with something in his hands, and the cat is immediately all over him, nuzzling around his ankles and purring more contentedly than she ever has in  _ my  _ presence. I try to feel offended, but as Percy bends down to scratch behind her ears and offer up whatever’s in the can with an amused smile, it feels suddenly like I should be rewarding the damn creature for dragging me out here in the middle of the night.

“Fuck you, you  _ are _ a cat whisperer! I’ve been trying to get her back for ages and you have the  _ audacity _ to lure her in just like that?”

“I think she just wanted the food,” Percy laughs, but as he scoops the cat into his arms and she immediately burrows into his sweater, I call bullshit.

“Well, whatever it is, she’s never once behaved so nicely with  _ me. _ Might just have to keep you around for situations like this.” The cat purrs as Percy cradles her, and I throw my hands up. “I’m convinced it’s witchcraft. Or she’s just gone and fallen in love with you at first sight.”

_ How relatable _ , I think, almost deliriously. Percy’s wide smile and soft laugh and the fondness in his eyes as he scratches behind the cat’s ears are certainly not doing anything to help my own issues with falling for him.

I clear my throat, willing the blush that’s creeping up my neck to stay out of sight and reach out for the cat. “Well, it’s getting late. Is late already. Has been late.” _ Nice, Monty, very smooth. _ “Thanks for your help.”

The moment Percy transfers the cat from his arms to mine and moves to pull away, the ungrateful creature hisses and tries to leap straight back out of my grasp. In his attempt to grab her before she can make another great escape down the hallway, Percy ends up sort of pressed against me, hands on my shoulders and face only a few inches from mine as the cat tries to cling to him again. 

For a moment we just stand and stare at each other, and the proximity makes it hard to decide whether I want to run away or fall deeper into those eyes, even though I’m sure it can only end in trouble. At this distance, I can see a sprinkling of freckles dusted across Percy’s face, and that alone makes me sure that I’m going to lose my goddamn mind if I stay this close to him for another moment.

Ignoring the cat’s protests, I grab full hold of her and force myself to take a step back. “Thank you again,” I say, and I’m surprised my voice comes out as steady as it does. It feels like everything in me has been caught slightly off balance by Percy. 

“Anytime. Good night, Monty.” He disappears back into his apartment, and I turn back to mine. For a moment I try to figure out how I’m going to maneuver my keys out of my pocket without losing hold of the cat, who already seems to be plotting against me again. Then I realize with a sinking feeling that these particular pants don’t  _ have _ pockets, which means…I don’t have my keys.

I groan, letting my head fall forward and bump against my door. The cat lets out an indignant yowl and squirms to get out of my arms, but I hold tight. Even if the rest of the night has already fallen to shambles, I’ll be damned if I have to chase her down the hallway again. “Everything alright?” I turn to see Percy, poking his head back outside his apartment.

“I’ll just call my sister,” I sigh, and his mouth turns up into a smile. 

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“She’s got nothing better to do.” Percy doesn’t quite look as though he believes me, but we say our goodnights again. He’s almost closed the door when I realize that not having pockets means I  _ also _ don’t have my phone. “Wait, Percy?” He pauses, and I offer up the dimples. “Could I use your phone to call? I swear it’ll only be a moment.” 

Felicity, bless, does actually show up to let me in — I hadn’t been sure she would, though I do get quite the telling off and plenty of threats that she will  _ not _ be rescuing me again. The moment I drop the cat inside, she gives me an annoyed look that rather mirrors Felicity’s expression and runs off. I rummage through the kitchen drawers until I unearth a scrap of paper and a pen. I scrawl a quick note —  _ thanks again for your help, darling _ — and add a hasty doodle that, while it won’t be winning any awards, is at least cat-adjacent. 

I’m halfway out the door before I realize my keys are still sitting on the table, and I double back to grab them. Felicity will not be taking pity on me a second time tonight, I’m sure. I pause in front of Percy’s apartment, and after a moment’s consideration, unfold the note and add my phone number to the bottom before sliding it under the door.

**III.**

When the music starts up, I’m sitting on the couch, debating the validity of getting up to open another bottle - I’m already a few drinks in, but an unpleasant phone call with my father has me feeling rather like that’s not quite enough. I’m not a fan of classical music normally, have always dragged my feet and tried to fake ill when my mother gets it in her head that a family trip to the symphony would be nice, but the soft melody drifting through the walls is taking the edge off my father’s harsh tone, softening the threats and disappointment still lingering in my head in that grating French tinged accent. 

The moment I realize the music is coming from across the hallway, from Percy’s apartment, I almost can’t remember the conversation with my father at all. There’s something different about the faint melody, something special, and I think I could  _ live _ in that dreaded symphony hall if only to take in Percy’s lovely music like oxygen.

I’m off the couch and out my door before I even realize I’m moving, suddenly desperate to get as close to the music as I can, as if it’s a lifeline, tugging me away from my father’s voice replaying in my mind. 

Suddenly everything about my apartment feels too close to him, too close to threats and bruises and pretending I can handle it for all of a quarter of an hour before I break down and let the alcohol handle everything instead. Everything inside is tugging me closer to another painful night alone, but Percy’s violin calls out something warmer, something safe, and I force myself to follow that instead. 

Percy and I have texted almost nonstop since I gave him my number, but our schedules don’t overlap quite enough for our paths to cross much in person, and I’m not quite sure how I’d explain to him why I’ve got an ear pressed against his door, trying to hear his playing the best I can, so I just hope he doesn’t decide to open his door. 

I’m not sure how long I stand there, leaning against the door with my eyes closed and listening, but when it begins to get a little too difficult to keep myself from crying, I decide to head back into my apartment and try to get some sleep. I think I might actually be able to, with the comfort of Percy’s music instead of the pain of my own thoughts. I fumble in my pocket for my keys which...I’m now positive I hadn’t remembered to grab. 

After typing out an SOS text to Felicity that I’m at least 60% sure she’ll ignore, I hover in the hallway for a moment, then finally work up the nerve to knock on Percy’s door. The music has already worked some kind of magic, but I’m still dreading the prospect of being alone with my thoughts right now more than I want to admit.

Percy swings the door open, violin still in hand, and though he looks rightfully confused at such an impromptu visit, there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at me, something that I want to let myself believe means this isn’t an inconvenience to him. “Funny story,” I start before he can ask, hoping the wobble will stay out of my voice. “Your playing was so fantastic that I had to step outside to hear it better and then…”

“You forgot your keys?” Percy finishes, and I throw up finger guns in response, a move I  _ immediately _ regret, but at least he laughs and doesn’t immediately shut the door in my face for something so ridiculous. “Well, seeing as it’s sort of my fault you got locked out of your apartment, would you want to come in for a while?” Percy sounds a bit nervous, tapping his violin bow against his leg. “It’s better to hear the music up close rather than lurking in the hallway.”

I’m more taken aback by the offer than I think I should be — though it’s not the offer itself, but the sincerity and softness in his voice as he makes it. I’m admittedly no stranger to being invited into someone’s home, but it’s never like this. It’s never kind and helpful, never for something as simple as listening to music. Never without an ulterior motive or some kind of expectation. And it scares me. But I manage a yes, or a least a nod if my voice has betrayed me, and Percy’s face lights up.

I follow him in, let him take my arm and lead me over to the couch. He cleans a mess of sheet music off the cushions, then pauses, suddenly looking rather unsure. “I...you don’t have to actually sit here and listen. I’m not that fantastic. It’ll probably bore you, I—”

“Percy,” I interrupt, and he freezes. “I’d really like to hear you play. I mean it.”

So he does. It’s even lovelier than before, because even more enchanting than the music is the way Percy looks when he’s playing. His eyes are closed, a soft smile on his face as he sways gently with the movement of his bow. If it feels his music had originally been  _ meant _ for me, to draw me here, now it seems  _ made _ for me, reaching into my soul and smoothing some of the jagged edges that never seem to stop digging into me. There’s so much care and gentleness woven into every note — and even though Percy couldn’t possibly know, it’s as though he’s taken every bad thing and made it better, if only in this moment. 

I don’t realize that he’s stopped playing — or that I’ve started crying — until I feel a soft touch on my knee and nearly jump out of my skin. Percy’s looking at me with concern, and the intensity makes me rather want to run away. Building a connection with someone through texts and brief passing waves in the hallway is one thing. Being forced to confront something head-on seems like too much.

But Percy is endlessly patient, lets me wipe my tears away without pushing farther than a steadying touch and a quiet comfort that makes me anxious but is also somehow exactly what I need. When I feel like I can speak again, I manage, “Your music is just so beautiful, darling.” He laughs a little and nudges me playfully, and then I’m laughing too, and everything feels brighter, easier, just being near him.

At some point, Felicity texts me that she got delayed somewhere, but I don’t mind. Percy and I sit across from each other at his tiny kitchen table, and we talk about everything and nothing all at once, and it’s so  _ easy _ and wonderful, and all of a sudden it feels like I could have known him for years rather than just a few short months.

When Felicity finally shows up, it’s hard to drag myself away. I might not have if not for the murderous glare and extensive lecture she has in store for me for making her drive over here again. But Percy walks me to my door, and shares his rehearsal schedule with me so I’ll know when he’s at home, and we make plans to meet up for coffee in a couple of days. I go back to my own apartment struggling to remember what had ever been upsetting me.

A few days later, I find an envelope slid under my door with a note:  _ Now you don’t have to worry about locking yourself out every time you miss my violin!  _ It’s a CD, just a few hours of Percy playing, and I absolutely _ do not _ cry about it.

**IV.**

I don’t even realize my keys aren’t in my pocket until I’m back at my apartment, staring down the door, trying to push away the pain of my stinging cheek, my stinging pride. They must have fallen out of my pocket when I got smacked — they’re probably still laying there on the floor of my father’s office, unreachable. I was left so rattled by the altercation with my father that I almost didn’t realize I was back at my apartment until I was standing in front of the door, so I’m not surprised the keys ended up low on my list of priorities. I can’t bring myself to do anything other than stare at the door — too scrambled up and hurting and mortified even thinking about the conversation I’d had.  _ You’re a grown man, _ I think,  _ shouldn’t be so damn terrified of your father _ , but that voice in my head ends up sounding jarringly like the man himself, so I try not to think about that anymore. 

I don’t notice any movement in the hallway, too caught up in loathing almost everything, so I start spectacularly when a gentle hand is placed on my shoulder, and the flinch nearly sends me slamming into the wall.

“Monty?” I want so badly for Percy’s gentle voice to just be the magical cure, for him to be able to just make everything so much better like he always does without even trying, but being around him right now just makes me fill up with even more shame. I don’t want Percy to have to see me like this. I don’t want to try and muddle through an explanation while trying to ignore the pity. I’m not even sure I  _ could _ explain it. 

I turn, forcing myself to meet his eyes and forcing a smile. That only seems to worry him more, and somehow I’d do absolutely anything to both run away from the concern that I can’t help but feel like I could never deserve, especially from  _ him _ , but also to stay here forever, in the comfort of his presence and gentle hands that I know would never hurt me. But I can’t say any of that now, don’t want to think about it, so I say “forgot my keys again,” in the sorriest attempt at a light tone I think I’ve ever made. 

Percy’s not blind, and he’s always paid such careful attention to me, training that soft gaze on me so that I almost start to believe it goes deeper than getting caught up on my dimples, so I know he’s noticed the bruise that I’m sure is already coloring gloriously on my jaw. That gaze that usually holds such comfort now feels as though I might break underneath it. Shatter under the weight of the situation and the heaviness of even imagining explaining any of this to Percy. I don’t want to burden him with this. I’d just drag him down to break with me. Or he’d try to put me back together and that almost scares me more than the breaking itself. I’m used to broken. What I’m not used to is the idea of being valuable enough to care enough to fix.

Percy, bless, seems to register that I don’t want to,  _ can’t _ talk about it, and doesn’t press, though the concern on his face still feels like it’s burning into me. A pleasant warmth, nothing like the searing flames of my father’s temper, but just intense enough that I don’t know what to do, and I’m too afraid to let myself let my guard down enough to burn. “Is there something I can do?” he asks finally. “Are you going to call Felicity?”

I shake my head. I can’t bring myself to even  _ consider _ calling my sister right now. Can’t imagine doing much of anything in the sorry state I’m in. At least I don’t have to sleep in the same house as my father tonight. Small blessings. “I’ll just...go downstairs or something. Sleep in the lobby. It’s too late to bother my sister and I don’t want to...go back and get my keys.” I expect him to back away, to say a soft good night and give me a last glance with those lovely eyes so full of concern and care, to leave me to my own lonely, self-loathing devices. Instead, he holds out a hand, slowly, carefully, and it takes my skittish brain too long to realize that he’s doing it so he doesn’t spook me, doesn’t make me flinch. And  _ damn it _ , I sort of want to cry.

“Don’t. Don’t do that. I’ve got a perfectly good apartment, I’m not going to let you sleep in some uncomfortable chair.”

“No, I...I couldn’t. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” My voice is wobblier than is admirable, and I try and turn my gaze away from him, but as usual, he’s rather hard to look away from.

“Monty.” His voice is gentle, the pressure of his fingers locking with mine even gentler. “You’re not an inconvenience. Come with me? Please?”

And how am I supposed to say no to Percy? So I let him lead me inside, let him sit me down on his couch, and I try very hard not to think about the throbbing pain of my cheek and the throbbing worry of what he’s going to think of me when he finds out. A grown man, letting his father control his life and make him feel like a scared, helpless little boy. I let my mind drift as Percy bustles around the apartment, trying to think about anything else. Or nothing at all, ideally. 

Then Percy’s back at my side, and he’s setting a steaming cup of tea on the coffee table, and wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, and holding a bag of ice gently to my bruised face, and being so much better to me than anyone has before. And I absolutely adore him for it. But I can’t say it, because that would mean thinking about so many things that I  _ can’t _ , and so I just sit there. 

When he sits down next to me and turns on the TV at a low volume, I move over just enough to lean against him. He doesn’t try to talk to me. We sit in silence, neither of us really watching what’s on the screen, and he doesn’t push or pry or do anything. But he’s doing  _ everything, _ everything that really matters, just by staying near me. I can almost feel the care and love coming off him in waves, and while it still scares me, it surprises me how ready I am to maybe crack open my gates to let some of it in. 

Despite the roiling feelings wreaking havoc on my mind, just the safe comfort of Percy’s nearness makes everything slow down, and I finally give in and let my head fall against his shoulder, intending to close my eyes just for a few moments.

I’m so close to drifting off that I’m not quite sure whether I’m imagining things when I feel Percy press a soft kiss to the top of my head.

When I wake up, I’m alone on the couch, a pillow under my head and a blanket carefully spread over me. For a moment, I’m not quite sure where I am. I’ve done my share of waking up in an apartment that’s not my own, but rarely alone and rarely as fully clothed as this. 

Percy’s nowhere to be found, and the harsh light of midday is streaming in through the gaps in his curtains. My heart skips, and with the memories of last night flooding back in, I’m suddenly afraid that I’ve scared him off and he regrets even getting close to me, let alone allowing me to stay in his apartment last night when I was on the brink of falling apart. 

Right before I fully spiral into that worry, I spot a cup of liquid I’m sure is at least lukewarm, if not fully cooled by now, next to a piece of paper on the coffee table. I pick it up, and it’s in Percy’s careful, loopy handwriting. I barely read the words at first, too hung up on the hearts doodled across the bottom of the page. They’re charming, a little lopsided, and they convince me that maybe he didn’t just run away after all. 

_ Monty, _

_ I’m so sorry I had to leave before you woke up. Early orchestra rehearsal. I didn’t want to wake you and say goodbye, I think you needed the rest. Stay at my place as long as you want, as long as you need. Call me if you need anything. I’m here for you. _

I’m still a little on edge from last night, still not quite able to banish the memory of my father, but Percy’s note fills me up with something far nicer, something I want to cling to and never let go of. 

**V.**

I know I’ve fucked up the second my door closes behind me, as I vividly remember setting my keys down to put my coat on and never picking them back up. I pull at the doorknob a few times, hoping maybe it will just unlock if I want it badly enough. Calling Felicity won’t do me much good, she’s busy all day and had spent a considerable amount of time last night telling me in no uncertain terms that if I bothered her she wouldn’t do anything for me ever again. “So don’t go getting yourself locked out again, Monty,” she’d said.

I’d argued, telling her of course I wouldn’t, that it’s only happened a few times and “ _ yes _ , felicity, I’ve learned from my mistakes.” It’s always infuriating to admit that my younger sister was right about something. I realize that somehow I’ve forgotten my wallet as well, and I’m certain that this will be a miserable day if I have to spend it alone. I glance at Percy’s door, and before I can think too hard about it, I march over and knock. “Would you like to go out with me?” I blurt out the moment he opens the door. There’s silence as Percy just blinks at me, and suddenly I’m very unsure about the whole thing. “Wait, no, sorry,” I backpedal, borderline frantically. “That’s not what I...I mean, you don’t—”

“Monty,” Percy interrupts, and I’m not sure whether I’m grateful he’s stopped my rambling or dreading the infuriatingly kind and gentle rejection I’m sure he’s about to give me. “What’s got you worked up? We go out all the time.” He just looks confused, bless him, though it’s not as if I’m entirely sure of this interaction anymore either.

“We do? I mean...yes, we do but as...and I was thinking more along the lines of...”  _ Dear Lord _ , I have never had quite so much trouble trying to ask someone out in my life.  _ Though perhaps _ , my brain supplies not so helpfully,  _ it’s because this is the first time you’ve cared about doing it properly. _ Which is a whole different crisis I’d prefer to come to terms with some other time.

Percy, bless, seems to catch onto my floundering, and doesn’t poke fun at me for it. He reaches out to grasp my hands in his and offers up that glorious smile. “Out like...on a date?” he asks, and behind his gentle, encouraging expression, I think I see something like nervousness, like he doesn’t want to be wrong.

“Well...yes. That’s what I meant. But you don’t have to! It’s no obligation, or—”

“Yes, Monty. I’d love to go on a date.” And honestly, I’m so taken aback by not getting a rejection that I just stand and stare at him, grinning like an idiot. “Did you mean...right now?” he asks with a small laugh, and I manage to shake myself out of the trance of just staring at his captivating freckles and lovely eyes.

“If...only if you want to! I’ve forgotten my wallet, though, so I’ll have to pay you back for anything we do.” 

“Can’t you just go get it? You live right…” He trails off, smile widening. “I see. You can’t get back into your apartment, can you?”

“And Felicity’s busy all day, so I thought it would just be a fantastic opportunity for us to spend time together! Perhaps I forgot my keys on purpose, this is all just part of my grand scheme to gain your affections. No, stop laughing, it could have been planned, you don’t know!”

“Come here, I want to show you something,” Percy says, grabbing onto my hand and tugging me inside his apartment with a cheeky grin. I know instantly that he’s up to something that’s just going to poke fun at me, but he looks so pleased with himself and has such a radiant mischievous expression that I’m inclined to just let it happen. I would sacrifice just about anything for that bright smile of Percy’s and the way he’s looking at me and his hand in mine, so a bit of my already limited dignity seems more than a fair price to pay.

He grabs his keys from their spot next to his door and waves them in my face, shaping his expression into something very serious indeed. “These are keys, Monty. They’re how you get into your apartment.” 

I scowl, but it doesn’t quite cover up my amusement. “You’re a menace. I know very well what keys are, thank you very much.”

His eyes are full of innocence as he presses the keys into my hand, folding his fingers over mine. “I was worried you’d forgotten what they looked like. I’m only trying to help.” He bats his eyelashes at me and I roll my eyes, trying and failing to keep in a laugh.

“I’ll be leaving if you intend to be this cruel to me all day.” 

Percy just grins, tugging me into a sideways hug that I would have been content to linger in forever.

We go to lunch, and we sit and talk for so long and laugh so loud that we’re finally politely asked to leave the restaurant. The afternoon is the most fun I’ve had in a long time, possibly ever in my life, and being around Percy is the easiest and most wonderful thing in the whole world. 

We walk through the park, so close to each other that our hands brush with every step, but both of us are too nervous to close those last inches. I still can’t quite get it out of my mind that I must somehow be misinterpreting the whole situation, that Percy’s only spending time with me because he feels bad that I’ve gotten locked out of my apartment again. But every time he looks over at me with that dazzling smile to laugh at something I’ve said, or shocks me by saying something absolutely filthy and has the gall to look so pleased with himself, and every time he looks at me with something so genuine and inexplicable in his eyes when he thinks I’m not paying attention to him...I worry about that a little less. I can almost start to believe that we’re on the same page. That I’m not delusional for believing that someone as lovely as Percy could care for me. 

We’re almost back at our building when suddenly, as though he’s been hyping himself up to make some kind of move all afternoon and has finally found the confidence, Percy reaches out and finally closes the gap between our hands, twining his fingers with mine. I look at him, and there’s a nervousness in his expression, as though he’s afraid I might pull away. Instead, I stop right there on the sidewalk and turn to face him. 

“Percy?” I breathe, and he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world. “Could I...would you mind if I kissed you?” I almost surprise myself, would never have thought of approaching something so gently or purposefully before him. Everything I’ve had before has been rather accidental, falling into someone’s arms at a bar just because they’re there and willing. But as Percy nods, and lets me pull him down so I can reach his lips, I can’t help but think that I’ll never have to go back to that again. And if that’s too much of an optimistic dream, then I don’t think I want to acknowledge reality ever again.

The rest of the afternoon seems to last forever, the two of us wrapped in a blissful slowed-down version of time, but it still feels like Felicity is texting far too soon, telling me that she’s on her way. I don’t want to leave, I’d be perfectly content to stay tangled with Percy on his couch for the foreseeable future, but he reluctantly reminds me that he has orchestra practice early in the morning and should be getting to bed. He does walk me to my door, where Felicity rolls her eyes and looks rather like she’d like to be making some gagging noises when I tug Percy in for a goodbye kiss. Or a few. I finally let him go and say goodbye to my sister, who again mumbles some threat about never coming to help again that I now know is a set of rather empty words. 

Finally back in my apartment, the first thing I do is text Percy  _ I miss you _ , even though we’ve been apart for a whole two minutes at most. He’s quick to respond, with a heart emoji and a suggestion that we go out again after his rehearsal tomorrow. And I’m not quite sure what we are, but I’m absolutely certain I want to continue on and find out. 

  
  


**+I**

_ six months later _

I’ve not been gone from our apartment for 20 minutes when my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and frown, then shoot an apologetic look at Jeanne across the table and mouth  _ one second _ at her before picking up.

There’s silence, long enough for me to start to get worried. “Perce? Are you there?”

“Hey, Monty,” he says finally, drawing out the words. “How long until you’ll be home, do you think?” The concern just continues to fill me up, his tone is strange and he doesn’t sound quite like himself. 

“Is everything okay? Are  _ you _ okay? Did you have a seizure? I can leave literally right this second, just hang on, I’ll—”

“No, no!” he interrupts. “Everything’s fine, I’m just…” he trails off, and now I can recognize the tone in his voice as embarrassment rather than something more serious. “I’ve just locked myself out of the apartment.”

Percy has the audacity to sound offended when I immediately start to laugh, though he’s spent plenty of time mocking  _ me _ for all the times I’ve forgotten my keys. I can’t see his face, but I know he must be blushing something fantastic. Poor thing. “Just call Felicity!” 

“I am  _ not _ going to call Felicity!” he hisses. “She thinks I’m the responsible one and I will not be ruining my image, thank you very much!”

“Sorry darling, I’d be more inclined to sympathize if you hadn’t given me such a hard time about this in the past. Seems rather deserved, doesn’t it?”

Percy just grumbles, but there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice alongside the embarrassment. “I’ll be fine. Enjoy your lunch.”

“I’ll come straight home after,” I promise. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I come home to find Percy sitting in the hallway, head tipped back against the wall and long legs stretched out in front of him. The sight fills me up with an almost overwhelming sense of nostalgia and fondness. His position is almost mirrored to mine, on that first night that I’d locked myself out and we’d met, though at least he had the better sense to not fully lay down on the carpet. It seems as though we’ve come full circle, but everything is also so much more than I could have ever expected. 

His face lights up when he sees me, even though I’d condemned him to wait in the hallway, and I can’t help but grin like an idiot back at him. Every time Percy smiles at me, it’s like he’s never looked at anyone else in the world like that, and it knocks me off my game every time, sending me falling even deeper in love with him. I bend down and pull him into a long, sweet kiss, savoring my current and unfortunately temporary height advantage over him. 

I’m reluctant to pull away, but if we keep this up much longer we are  _ not _ going to want to be in the hallway, so I lean back. He smiles up at me. “Took you long enough,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice that I’m sure is meant to annoy me but instead only succeeds in making me want to throw myself at him even more. 

“Payback, darling.” I wink, then grip his wrists and tug him up to standing. I pull my key out of my pocket and wave it exaggeratedly in his face until he swats at me, laughing. 

“Goose. Go on, open the door, you’ve made your point.” I’ve barely turned the key in the lock before he’s brushing past me to get into the apartment, tugging me in after him with such enthusiasm I’m nearly swept off my feet. He pushes the door closed with his foot and pulls me close to him, and  _ this is what a home is meant to feel like. _ And I don’t even need a key for it.

  
*****

Almost a year later, when we buy our first house together, Felicity’s gift to us is a doormat with  _ The Newtons _ written on it in curving black script. “Keep your spare key under that,” she says, but the air of annoyance in her voice doesn’t quite conceal her rather genuine smile. “I won’t be coming to let you in again.”


End file.
